LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IX, Issue 1309, 30 May 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE HAUNTED HOUSE. By CoxNstance Steeling. [" Danbury News "J The night was fast coining on, and Eugene Hayward urged his tired horse to a faster pace. He had no mind to spend the right on this lonely, unfrequented road in the north of England. Hut although he urged the horse on faster, he knew not how soon he should reach a dwelling where he could find accommodation until morning. He had never been on the road before, and during his long day's journey had not seen half a dozen houses. It may therefore be imagined how relieved he felt when, at a sudden turning in the road, he discerned a faint light glimmering about a quarter of a mile further on.

On riding toward this friendly bear-on, he found that lie bad stumbled upon an old inn, evidently having been used in the past as a half-way house where travellers to the next town could stay the niodit; but as evidently not used now for the accommodation of either man or beast, and Captain Hayward, but for the faint light glimmering from a lower window, would have at once decided that it wa3 no longer used as even a shelter. A weather-beaten sign hung over the door, swinging in the wind and creaking dolefully on its rusty hinges. Tho buildiDg was a large one, built of stone in a rambling, erratic manner, and the walls overgrown with clinging ivy. Captain Hayward dismcunted, and holding his horse by the bridle with one hand, rapped loudly on the door with his other. There was no reply. No genial landlord threw wide the door and bade the traveller enter.

As Captain Hayward waited for a reply to his knojk, tho moaning of the wind and the creaking of the old sign were the only sounds which broke the almost death dike silence.

' Hello, here !' and again he waited. Just as he was about to repeat his blows on the door, he heard sounds from within, and knew that the heavy chains which hung across the door on the inside, as is the custom to fasten themjin lonely places, were being unhung, and many massive] bolts withdrawn. And presently the door was opened by an old, old man, who held a small lantern in his hand, and peered out into the darkness with small, blearded eyes. ' What's wanted V s he asked in a surly tone,

• I am traveling from Baseford to Chenowith, and want to stop here for the night,' replied Captain Hayward. • You can't stay here,' was the reply, with a shake of the old white head.

' But, my good man, I cannot go on to Cheuowith in this darkness. I should miss my road, and my poor horse is utterly fagged out. Give us a night's lodging and I will pay you well.' The old man hesitated, and telling Captain Hayward to wait there a moment, shambled down the wide, dark hall and disappeared in a room at the end.

The Captain, impatiently waiting, and wondering at this extraordinary delay, heard the sounds of conversation proceediug from the room into which the old man had gone ; and then he came out again accompanied by an old woman, whose feeble half-palsied limbs could scarce uphold hi r tottering body. She advanced to the door, and gazed curiously at the young army officer. ' You can put your horse in the stable,' she at length said, ' there's hay and grain there, and we will keep you all night, since your horse is used u;>, but for no other reason. If you could go on to Chenowith you should not stop here, for we never keep travellers, never.'

Captain Hayward thanked her for giving him permission to stay, and leading his horse to the stable by the light afforded from the lantern which the old man handed him, threw some hay into an old, dilapidated manger, and removing the bridle and saddle, took his way back to the house.

He was unable to fasten the stable door, for there was no key to tho padlock, but this did not trouble him, for he reflected there would be no danger from horse thieves in this desolate place. The old man admitted him and showed him the way into a large, bare-looking room, furnished with only the most actual necessities for living. By a small table the old lady sat knitting, aud a bright fire burned on the large, old-fashioned fire-place. Captain Hay ward took a seat by the fire, removing his overcoat and hat, and the old man wheeled up to him another small table on which was spread bread, butter, cheese, and cold ham, to which plain fare the tired traveller did full justice. Neither of the old people spoke, and the silence becoming rather monotonous and wearisome to Hayward, aud having his share of curiosity, he ventured to ask a question. ' How long have you lived Jin this dreary place, my good man ? ' The faces of both his companions became a shade paler, and they glanced furtively at each other. For a moment neither spoke and then the man said, grufliy—- ' For ten years.'

'How could Jyou endure this lonely life for ten years f asked Hayward, in surprise. He received no reply. ' Do you keep no servants ? not even a dog?' asked the captain, to whom this complete isolation from the world without any apparent purpose, seeded very strange. " ' We need neither dogs nor servants,' was the cold reply. 4 Do you ever go to Baseford or Chenowith?' pursued Hayward, determined to elicit some information which would give him some clue to the strange life of these old people. ' Sometimes to Baseford,' was the reply. 'Do you never long for society, or the companionship of some friend, or to see your relatives?' The old mau rose from his seat. ' Margaret, he said, in severe tones, 'we retire early tonight. It is time you were going.' He paid no attention to Hayward's question. Then as the old lady took up her knitting and left the room the old man turned to the captain. ' I am ready to show you to your room, sir,' he said, politely. Hayward was, perforce, obliged to accompany his host, and by the dim light of the {small lantern stumbled up the broad stairs, the old man following close behind him. They passed down several long corridors and H aywajd stopped at the door of a room which stood open, disclosing a neat chamber vastefal ! y arranged. 'l3 this where I am to sleep ?' asked he. ' No, no,' said his companion, hurriedly, ' Margaret has left this open accidentally. Down the next corridor ; now, the second door to the right,' and Hayward found himself almost pushed into a large, barelooking room, with three wiudows, and containing a rude bed, a couple of chairs and a table.

' Why couldn't I sleep is fcbai nice room ?' muttered Hay ward, when his host had left him alone, aftsr lighting a small piece of candle he sot on the mantle, ' but p.erhf*rst ic is the room where they sleep themselves,' and divesting himself of his outer clothing, the captain threw himself on the straw bed, and was soon obiivious to his barren surroundings.

He had been sleeping several hours, and it must have been nearly midnight, when he w»a awakened by a trampling in the stalde, which could be distinctly heard in his room, situated as the stable was, only a few yards from the house. Fearing for the safety of his horse, Captain sprang up, lighted the little piece ■■■>, candle, hurried . n his clothes, and ih*ough the winding corridors. i> made his way to the hall doer witi but little difficulty, and without apparently awakening anyone, and undoing the hea y chains was soon at the stable He found that the horse had broken the halter, and waa roaming awand iu the

spacious stalls, but there WSa-i. ~" intruder. After tying him more'StL . an Hayward made his way back to the house!, but just as he reached the door ho let fall his piece of candle, and although he groped on his hands and knees to find it, all search was useless.

' I will have to find my way to my room in the dark, and a nice task it will be through those corridors,' he muttered, as he ascended the stairs.

He walked on until a faint light guided him to an open door, which he supposed must be the one belonging to his room and which he had left open. But as he entered the pale moonlight through the windows showed it to be the nicely-furnished room which he had believed to be occupied by the old people, but it was entirely empty now.

' It cannot make any difference if I finish the night here,' thought the captain, who was possessed of an easy, untroubled conscience about things. ' I can never go poking about all tnese corridors with no light. I'll explain matters to the old people to-morrow,' and he threw himself on the bed, which he found to be a luxurious one, which fact surprised him not a little. He was just sinking to sleep when he was startled by hearing a groan ; a long, weary sigh following it, and then all was silence. Captain Hayward sat up and gazed around. The pale moonlight came in at the windows ; he could hear the dreary moaning of the wind, and the creaking of the old sign as it swung to and fro, but there was nothing to be seea. Captain Hayward listened, but there was no repetition of the groan, but just as he lay down it came again, this time louder and more prolonged. Whence could the sound proceed ? Captaiu Hayward again sat up, half expecting to see some white robed spirit near him, but he was alone in the room. As he waited for the next sound he heard a dog's quick, though subdued bark, seeming to come from some room very near the one which he was occupying. ' Why, the old man told me they kept no dog,' he mutter* d. But now came even a stranger sound—■ that of a human voic i, and and beseeching, as if the speaker were in great mental distress.

1 .Roderick !' it said, ' why do you leava me thus alone? Come to your Mabel. Roderick. lam all alone, alone with Tiger.' • Who can it be V exclaimed Captain Hayward aloud. {To he continued.)